Marcus sighed heavily. “I loved him. Still do, despite everything. I tried to support his talent, his dreams. But Alex has struggled with emotional stability throughout our relationship. There were periods of paranoia, accusations, unpredictable defence. I tried to get him medical and psychological help, but he refused.”
“No further questions, Your Honour.”
I was shaking so badly I could barely remain seated. The complete inversion of reality—painting himself as the patient, loving partner and me as unstable and ungrateful—was so skilfully done that I saw several jurors nodding sympathetically.
Damian stood, buttoning his jacket. “Mr. Delaney, you’ve painted quite a rosy picture of your relationship with Alex. Let’s examine it more closely, shall we?”
Marcus inclined his head slightly, the picture of cooperative dignity.
“You testified you were not at home on the evening of September 17th when Alex sustained his injuries. Yet your neighbour, Mrs. Hastings, reported hearing ‘a man shouting’ and ‘sounds of distress’ from your apartment that night. How do you explain that?”
Marcus didn’t flinch. “Mrs. Hastings is elderly and confused. She’s mistaken about the timing or perhaps heard sounds from another apartment.”
“I see. And the doorman who logged your entry to the building at 9:17 PM that night—is he confused as well?”
A flicker of something—surprise, anger—crossed Marcus’s face before his mask of composure returned. “I stopped home briefly between the fundraiser and meeting friends. I forgot something I needed.”
“How convenient. And these friends who’ve provided affidavits confirming your presence that night—they’re all business associates dependent on your investments or charitable donations, aren’t they?”
“Objection!” Blackwood called. “Counsel is badgering the witness.”
“I’ll rephrase,” Damian said smoothly. “Mr. Delaney, could you please state the names and relationships of these alibi witnesses?”
“James Wong, a fellow board member at the hospital. Richard Townsend, my investment partner. Melissa Davis, a gallery owner I support.”
“All people with financial connections to you, correct?”
“They’re colleagues and friends.”
“You testified that you encouraged Alex’s career and relationships. Yet Professor Mercier and Ms. Tremblay both testified that they received communications prohibiting contact with Alex. Did you send those communications without Alex’s knowledge?”
“No. Alex was aware and approved of setting boundaries with people who were becoming intrusive.”
“Then why didn’t Alex sign these communications himself?”
“He found confrontation difficult. I helped him express his wishes formally.”
“How thoughtful.” Damian’s voice dripped with skepticism. “Mr. Delaney, you claim Alex was free to pursue his career, yet you personallydelivered his resignation to the Gardiner Gallery. Why would you do that if he was making his own professional decisions?”
“He asked me to. He was anxious about disappointing Ms. Tremblay.”
“You testified that you provided Alex with a monthly allowance. Did he have independent access to funds?”
“Of course. He had credit cards, access to accounts.”
“Yet bank records show all cards were in your name, with Alex as an authorized user—a status you could revoke at any time. And all accounts required your signature for withdrawals over $200. That’s not independence, is it?”
“It was a practical arrangement. Alex wasn’t particularly financially sophisticated.”
“Let’s discuss Buster, Alex’s cat. You claim the cat disappeared the night Alex left, yet you told the building manager three days later that ‘the cat is fine, just staying with a friend temporarily.’ Why the discrepancy?”
Marcus hesitated for the first time. “I… was embarrassed to admit I’d lost the cat. I hoped he would turn up.”
“So you lied?”
“I misspoke out of concern for appearances.”
“Just as you’re doing now?” Damian’s question hung in the air.
